Chapter Text
Shen Qingqiu was familiar with Luo Binghe's "outwardly friendly but inwardly plotting revenge" act. He'd read about it in PIDW—and seen disciple Binghe direct it at Liu Qingge—enough times that it was unmistakable. Luo Binghe's expression would be flawless, of course, as would his words, but there'd be a telltale hateful twinkle in his eyes that guaranteed his victim would die a painful death. Or, in Liu Qingge's case, would be served a lukewarm cup of tea.
This was not that act.
"I—" Shen Qingqiu started, then stopped. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.
It was too late for him to turn back. He was already at the top of the brothel stairs, with Gongyi Xiao behind him, blocking his only escape route. Not that he could escape anyway, because Binghe had already seen him, because Binghe was here—out of the Abyss early and ordering around the Huan Hua disciples with the ease of one born to rule.
And honestly, what bullshit was this? Shen Qingqiu was supposed to have two more years to prepare for this! The plant bodies weren't ready! He wasn't ready!
Not that it mattered, apparently, because when Luo Binghe's dark, glittering eyes met his—causing Shen Qingqiu's breath to catch and his heart to seize—he only gave Shen Qingqiu a bored, cursory once-over before moving on to Gongyi Xiao.
"We've found the sower, shixiong," Binghe said. "Thank you for bringing assistance, but I won't presume to waste any more of this senior's time."
The smile he gave Shen Qingqiu was…polite. Respectful.
Disinterested.
Shen Qingqiu stared at him, speechless. He'd been prepared for anger, or hate—it was no less than what he deserved—but this?
What was this, even?
"...Binghe?" he found himself saying, and even to his own ears his voice sounded horribly uncertain.
At the familiar use of his name, Binghe's eyes sharpened, snapping back to look at Shen Qingqiu again, this time with suspicion.
Suspicion, but not recognition. Shen Qingqiu stared back, dumbfounded.
Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
[Hello]: chimed a friendly, Google Translate voice. [System activation successful. Plot deviation detected. Calculating new storyline…]
A pixelated hourglass appeared.
Shen Qingqiu had never been happy to hear the System, but now he grasped at it like a drowning man clutching at a life preserver. System, what's going on? he thought furiously. What's wrong with Binghe?
The System was silent for a moment as the pixelated hourglass turned over, and then turned over again. Then, with a bing: [Alternate storyline engaged! New Quest Available: A Second Chance to Make a Good First Impression. Accept?: Yes/No]
If the System had been blessed with a neck, Shen Qingqiu would have throttled it. I didn't ask for a quest, I asked what was wrong with him! Why does he look like he doesn't remember me? Is he sick? Is he cursed?
[To see the quest details, the User must first accept the quest.]
Shen Qingqiu mentally jabbed the accept button.
[Quest goal: Discover what is wrong with Luo Binghe. Wishing the User luck!]
Shen Qingqiu wanted to scream.
Normally the quest name would give him hope. A chance to make a new first impression was a positive thing, right? The original goods hadn't exactly done a great job in that regard, and if Binghe didn't remember how they'd parted…well. That would probably be for the best.
But the cold way Binghe was eyeing him filled him with dread.
Gongyi Xiao cleared his throat awkwardly into the silence, then stepped around Shen Qingqiu onto the landing of the second floor. "This is Senior Shen," he said to Binghe, shooting Shen Qingqiu a tense look. "He's from Cang Qiong Mountain's Qing Jing Peak. He's your—"
"Former Shizun," Binghe finished for him, and he looked curious now—but it was a cool curiosity, the sort you'd see in a scientist studying a specimen they were about to dissect. "I see. This disciple apologizes for not greeting you properly, Senior Shen, but circumstances conspired against it. I've lost my memories, and didn't recognize you."
Shen Qingqiu had already figured as much, given the lack of bloodcurdling hatred. "Is that so," he said weakly.
Binghe nodded. "Don't worry, though," he said, and there was that sweet yet threatening smile. "Senior Shen's reputation precedes him. I might not remember you myself, but I've heard all about you."
It didn't take long for Binghe and the gaggle of Huan Hua disciples to fill Shen Qingqiu in on the details, mostly because there were nowhere near enough details. About six months ago, Binghe had been found near the borderlands, unconscious. He'd had so many injuries that, according to the female disciple clinging to Binghe's arm and glaring daggers at Shen Qingqiu, "It had taken Huan Hua's best healers three days and three nights to bring him back from the edge of death."
"This humble disciple is grateful for Huan Hua's generous aid," Binghe said, his face the perfect picture of humble gratitude. "When I woke, I had no memory of how I got there, or of who I'd been before. If it hadn't been for others recognizing me from my performance at the Immortal Alliance Conference, I wouldn't have known my own name."
Had Binghe's mind been injured when he left the Abyss? Nothing like this had happened to Binghe in PIDW, but in the original story he'd been in the Abyss for much longer! Perhaps in his rush, he'd made a mistake?
But that didn't explain where Xin Mo was. If Binghe had truly been injured so badly, he wouldn't have been able to hide the cursed sword or his demonic heritage from his would-be rescuers. He couldn't be faking his amnesia, either—not only had his lack of reaction at seeing Shen Qingqiu been too genuine, but the System had all but confirmed that his affliction was real.
It just didn't make sense.
"Luo-shidi is so talented! He's the rising star of our Palace! Who else could have achieved so much, so fast, and without any memories?" one of the disciples said, gazing up at Binghe with starry eyes.
It was clear that Binghe, memories or no memories, had already managed to get Huan Hua under his thumb. The disciples who weren't staring at him in wonder were glaring suspiciously at Shen Qingqiu, some even going so far as to put their hands on the hilts of their swords.
As a master cultivator, it was beneath Shen Qingqiu to respond to such minor threats, and so he pretended he didn't see them. Instead, he focused his attention on Binghe, who—
—Was already staring back at him, those dark, glittering eyes tracking Shen Qingqiu's every reaction.
Shen Qingqiu felt his hairs stand on end. Just because Binghe didn't have his memories didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. Still…
"Perhaps Luo Binghe should accompany this master to see Mu Qingfang," Shen Qingqiu said. "He could evaluate you, and attempt to find what caused this problem."
It was undoubtedly in Shen Qingqiu's best interests that Luo Binghe not regain his memories. The sooner Binghe remembered that Shen Qingqiu had betrayed him, the sooner Shen Qingqiu would end up as a human stick. But Luo Binghe was the protagonist! He'd eventually recover his memories, and if Shen Qingqiu could provide some help to him now, perhaps he could mitigate Binghe's eventual revenge—or even divert it entirely! Which might be needed, since the plant bodies were definitely not finished growing yet.
Besides, despite the danger he posed, Binghe without Xin Mo or his demonic heritage was strangely vulnerable. Abandoning him to suffer in the Abyss for years had been bad enough, and Shen Qingqiu had known he'd survive that. But leaving him like this? Defenseless, and with no plot-guaranteed outcome?
Shen Qingqiu swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. It didn't bear thinking about.
The Huan Hua disciples only scowled harder at Shen Qingqiu's offer of help.
"Are you suggesting our healers are incompetent?" one of them asked. The others chimed in, outraged, until Luo Binghe raised his hand, silencing the group.
"Qian Cao Peak is renowned for its healing arts," Luo Binghe said. He eyed Shen Qingqiu thoughtfully. "I'd be remiss not to take advantage of an opportunity to consult its Peak Lord. Thanking Senior Shen for the offer. Please, lead the way." He smiled as he said it, and it was a perfect smile, all dimples and friendly eyes, and a world apart from the toothy grin that Shen Qingqiu had gotten used to during their years together in the bamboo house.
Shen Qingqiu nodded stiffly and turned to go. He heard Gongyi Xiao start to follow him, then—
"I'll leave the investigation in your capable hands, Gongyi-shixiong," Binghe said firmly.
"...Of course," said Gongyi Xiao, his voice subdued. He might be the head disciple, but he'd been all but ordered to remain behind and do clean up. It was clear who was calling the shots at Huan Hua.
Shen Qingqiu didn't really want to be stuck alone with Luo Binghe, not when he was smiling at Shen Qingqiu like he was a stranger (because of course he was, because to him, Shen Qingqiu was a stranger right now, and why did that feel worse than being an enemy?). But what could he do? He'd been the one to invite Binghe in the first place! And so he nodded a goodbye at Gongyi Xiao, fan over his mouth to hide his unsettled frown, and walked back out of the building.
Binghe walked calmly beside him through the near-empty streets, and even without his memories, Binghe was still clearly Binghe: he held himself the same way, and had the same gait, and the same piercing eyes and fluffy hair. But that hair (which had always been so wild and free) was now pulled back in a tight ponytail. His expression was stiffer, too, and his movements more careful. He was guarded, though not noticeably so, not unless a person had lived with him for years and had seen him truly at ease.
There were physical differences as well. Binghe was taller now, enough so that Shen Qingqiu could forget about casually patting him on the head. He'd have to stretch his arm up to do that now, not that he would dare to! The soft baby fat on Binghe's face was gone, replaced by a chiseled jawline and cheekbones that would make a c-drama star weep with envy. He wasn't a kid anymore; he was the badass protagonist who would easily woo hundreds of women, and it showed.
The only element detracting from Binghe's appearance was his robes. They were bright Huan Hua yellow, with enough embroidery and ornamentation that, if they'd been done with more skill and restraint—and in a different color palette—they could have passed as something Binghe might have worn as an emperor. It was gaudy, and frankly a bit ridiculous, and Shen Qingqiu couldn't help but wonder if whatever had robbed Binghe of his memories had also taken his sense of taste.
Not that he looked bad in the robes. Shen Qingqiu wasn't sure Binghe was even capable of looking bad in anything, not with shoulders that wide, and a waist that small, and—
"Does Senior Shen like what he sees?"
Binghe's face was unreadable when Shen Qingqiu looked up—and he did have to look up —to meet his eyes, but his voice carried a hint of a threat in it that Shen Qingqiu wasn't used to hearing.
Shen Qingqiu hadn't been doing anything wrong, but something about the way Binghe was looking at him made him feel vaguely guilty. He felt his cheeks burn, and he looked away, raising his fan a bit higher to cover his blush. "This Master is just concerned for Luo Binghe's health. Did any other symptoms or injuries accompany your amnesia?"
There were plenty of poisons and artifacts in PIDW that could cause memory loss. Most notably, the flower from the Heart's Burden Tree had been eaten by Ning Yingying, erasing her memories and allowing Binghe the chance to win her love for a second time. And Shen Qingqiu, sucker that he was, had been excited to read about it! He'd wondered what the amnesia might reveal, both about Ning Yingying and about Binghe. Would Ning Yingying be happier without the burden of the harem on her formerly-carefree shoulders? Would she even be able to fall in love with a man who was so much darker and crueler than the one she'd originally married? What would it mean for Binghe and his other wives if she couldn't?
But Airplane had simply copy/pasted in parts of their previous heart-to-hearts, and then, when she inevitably fell for him, used papapa to return her memories and get right back to the status quo.
Peerless Cucumber had left a comment on the ending that had almost rivaled the length of the final chapter, and Airplane's reply of, "lol, chill bro," had not calmed him down.
The other amnesia plot devices had similarly been used to drive women into Binghe's arms. But if this was a wife-plot, then where was the wife?
"As I mentioned before, I was heavily injured when I was found," Binghe said. "I had several broken bones, severe head wounds, and lacerations across my chest and arms, all of which the Huan Hua doctors healed before I woke up. I'm quite well now, but thank you for your concern."
He said it with a sense of finality, as if drawing the conversation to a close, but—
"What cures have you tried?" If it had been the Heart's Burden Flower—or a majority of the potential culprits—then there was one sure-fire cure. Ruling it out would narrow things down significantly.
"I'd be happy to give Peak Lord Mu the details of my medications," Binghe said.
That was fine and all, and probably a good idea to make sure Mu Qingfang didn't prescribe him anything that conflicted with what the Huan Hua doctors might currently be giving him, but…
"I've heard dual-cultivation is quite effective at helping such things," Shen Qingqiu said, and he wasn't embarrassed about bringing it up, because this was a perfectly normal medical practice in this world and there was no reason for him to feel awkward about it. If his ears were burning a bit, that couldn't be helped. "Has Luo Binghe tried it yet?"
Binghe was silent for a long moment. Shen Qingqiu risked a glance over at him, only to find him already looking in Shen Qingqiu's direction, his eyes narrowed.
"That's none of Senior Shen's concern," Binghe said, his voice carefully neutral.
"Ah, my apologies." It was only natural he wouldn't want to share details like that with a stranger! But if he hadn't, the odds were good that it would work, and there had been plenty of pretty girls hanging onto his arm when Shen Qingqiu had walked in on his group at the brothel. "Only, Binghe is young and handsome, and has many admirers. If you haven't already, perhaps it's worth attempting?"
Binghe's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "...And I suppose Senior Shen has a volunteer in mind?"
"What? No, no, but surely Binghe isn't short on willing partners!"
Shen Qingqiu laughed awkwardly. Binghe did not join in.
They walked the rest of the way to the weapons shop in silence.
Shen Qingqiu had hoped that things with Binghe would become, if not easy, then at least a bit less awkward when he had his martial brothers there to help carry the conversation.
Unfortunately for him, one of those martial brothers was Liu Qingge.
"He's alive?" Liu Qingge asked, blinking at Binghe in surprise. "Wait, does this mean you'll stop moping?"
Luo Binghe gave Shen Qingqiu another suspicious look, and Shen Qingqiu felt his face flush. "Moping? Who was moping!"
"Grieving, then."
That was even worse! And now Binghe had that calculating look in his eyes that Shen Qingqiu knew meant trouble.
"I wasn't grieving! I was just…taking time to recover from the ordeal."
Liu Qingge looked skeptical. "Your head disciple said you still weren't eating last week."
Ming Fan was such a snitch. "I haven't been hungry."
"For three years?" asked Binghe, his eyebrow raised.
This was getting out of control—and luckily, Mu Qingfang seemed to think so, too. He cleared his throat, and, when he had everyone's attention, smiled warmly at Binghe.
"I'm grateful Luo-shizhi is alive," Mu Qingfang said. "But…how?"
"I'd like to know that as well," said Liu Qingge, crossing his arms.
It didn't take long to get Mu Qingfang and Liu Qingge caught up with Binghe's memory loss and time at Huan Hua Palace. Binghe filled them in quickly and efficiently, only stopping to answer questions Mu Qingfang asked along the way.
"And how about your cultivation?" Mu Qingfang asked. "Did your memory loss affect your ability to wield a sword? Or control your qi?"
"Not at all."
Mu Qingfang scribbled down a note. "And may I examine your cultivation?"
Binghe held out his wrist in answer, and Mu Qingfang began to take his pulse with one hand, still jotting down information with the other. "What cures have you tried?"
The list of medicines Binghe rattled off was beyond Shen Qingqiu's comprehension, but seemed to mean something to Mu Qingfang. His face grew more and more troubled as he listened.
He wasn't the only one that looked upset. Liu Qingge, who'd been pacing during Mu Qingfang's questioning, looked like he was ready to punch someone. Which, to be fair, was not all that different from his normal expression, but Shen Qingqiu had gotten to know him well enough to tell that he was genuinely angry about something.
"And what about strange artifacts?" Mu Qingfang asked. "Have you picked up any unusual pieces of jewelry, or ancient swords?"
Binghe shook his head. "I haven't—"
"Why didn't you come back?" Liu Qingge burst out. "You were alive for years before losing your memory, so why didn't you come back to Qing Jing Peak?"
"...I have to admit, I was wondering that as well," Mu Qingfang said. "Does Luo Binghe remember why he kept his distance?"
"I don't," Binghe said.
Shen Qingqiu's fingers tightened involuntarily around his fan, and Binghe's eyes flicked to him.
"But what about since coming to Huan Hua? You were told where you'd come from, but you still didn't return. What's your excuse?" Liu Qingge demanded, glaring at Binghe as if he’d committed some great betrayal.
Binghe stared coolly back. "I'm content where I am. Why should I leave?"
"Why should you—!" Liu Qingge surged forward, only stopped by Mu Qingfang's hand on his shoulder. "Unfilial! Do you know how much your Shizun has been mourning you?"
"Liu-shidi," Shen Qingqiu protested. "Really, I'm fine—"
"He's been inconsolable!"
"Liu-shidi!"
"Has he?" Binghe said quietly.
"He's been wasting away, calling out your name like he's lost his soul, and the whole time you've been here—"
"Enough!" Shen Qingqiu didn't have the face for this! "Let's focus on curing Binghe's ailment. Questions can wait until he has answers."
Binghe's eyes were frighteningly unreadable as he considered Shen Qingqiu, but after a moment he nodded in agreement. "I'll answer every question you have…when I can answer any at all," he agreed.
But nothing Mu Qingfang tested even hinted at the cause of Binghe's memory problem, and the couple of pills Mu Qingfang had that Huan Hua hadn't already tried did nothing when Binghe swallowed them.
"I'm afraid I've wasted your time," Binghe said, bowing politely, and the disappointment on his face seemed genuine. "Thanking Healer Mu for his kindness and hard work, but there are sowers loose in the city that I need to attend to."
"That we need to attend to," Liu Qingge said.
"Of course. It would be an honor to fight beside Bai Zhan's War God," Binghe said smoothly, and Liu Qingge paused, frowning.
"Why are you being nice?" he asked.
Binghe blinked. "I'm always nice," he said.
"No," said Liu Qingge. "You're not."
The original Luo Binghe in PIDW had been nice—or at least, he'd pretended to be in the beginning. It had been a necessity for him. His early life post-Abyss was all politicking and subterfuge, and he'd had to charm and manipulate his way to the top in order to survive. This world's Binghe, on the other hand, had been secure in his position at Shen Qingqiu's side. He hadn't bothered with any of those masks, often shooting the other Peak Lords and disciples sour faces and grumbling if they so much as took up too much of his Shizun's time.
It seemed that, without his memories and on uneven footing, Binghe had retreated behind the diplomatic facade that his PIDW counterpart had relied on so heavily.
"My apologies, Senior Liu," Binghe said, and he bowed again. "My past self apparently has a lot to answer for. I'll do my best to—"
"Stop that. It's weird," Liu Qingge said.
Binghe hesitated, smile faltering for a second. "Weird? I—"
But Liu Qingge had already drawn his sword and headed out the door, presumably to find some sowers.
Binghe, startled, stared after him. "Ah, I suppose I should join him," he said after a moment. He smiled and bowed his goodbye to Mu Qingfang, then did the same to Shen Qingqiu—and was it Shen Qingqiu's imagination, or did Binghe's polite expression get just a smidge colder when looking his way?
"...Is Shen-shixiong alright?" Mu Qingfang asked quietly after Binghe had left.
"Of course I'm alright," Shen Qingqiu said. And why wouldn't he be? It was Binghe that was cursed, or injured, or otherwise afflicted. Shen Qingqiu was fine.
He was fine. And Mu Qingfang's pitying looks when he muttered his excuses and headed upstairs were frankly uncalled for.
Without a Cure was acting up too much for him to join the hunt for sowers, and so Shen Qingqiu went back to his room and waited. But when Liu Qingge didn't return to clear his meridians, he found himself just…sitting. And thinking.
It was only natural, given the situation, that his thoughts turned to Binghe.
When he'd pushed Binghe into the Abyss, he'd known that Binghe would hate him—had known that all their shared memories of quiet days together in the bamboo house, of playing music and eating food and composing poetry, would be overshadowed in Binghe's heart by Shen Qingqiu's betrayal. He'd been prepared to be the only one who remembered those times fondly.
He hadn't been prepared to be the only one who remembered those times at all.
That knowledge sat heavy in his stomach as he waited. He watched the door, half expecting Binghe to burst through at any moment and declare that it had all been a trick, and that he remembered his horrible Shizun after all.
And wouldn't that be terrifying? Having Binghe set back on the path of revenge would be bad! And definitely not a little bit of a relief!
But Binghe didn't come to his room. Neither did Liu Qingge, and as the hours passed, Shen Qingqiu grew more and more restless.
When he couldn't stand it any longer, he threw on his outer robe and left his room.
It wasn't hard to find where in Jin Lan City the Huan Hua delegation was staying. When Shen Qingqiu asked around, he was pointed in the right direction—a fancy tea house, now abandoned, but fixed up by an entourage of Huan Hua servants so that their cultivators could have somewhere suitably refined to rest.
Slipping past the disciples that were on guard duty was as easy as ducking into an alley, jumping to an upper level window, and then creeping inside. Finding Binghe's individual room was more difficult. Everyone was asleep by this hour, which meant there were no cultivators to catch him, but there were also no servants that he could ask for directions. Shen Qingqiu quietly opened the first few doors only to be met with empty rooms or snoring junior disciples. He even accidentally stumbled across the women's room, to his horror! He shut that door extra quickly. It wouldn't do for Binghe to catch him there and get the wrong idea.
Not that it would look good getting caught sneaking around in any room at this hour. He'd look like a common thief! But he had to do this. Binghe might not remember having picked up a cursed artifact, but it was possible that not remembering it was itself an effect of the curse. If there were any traces of such an item (and there had to be, right? Or else how was Shen Qingqiu supposed to fulfill this quest?) then he might be able to detect them in Binghe's belongings.
The final room he checked only held a single occupant, and, while it was currently empty, it was definitely in use—the rumpled sheets on the bed and the half-eaten meal on the table attested to that. A quick look around revealed an outer robe thrown over a chair and a spare set of boots that looked like they would fit Binghe.
This had to be Binghe's room. The only other person it could belong to was Gongyi Xiao, and he'd been asleep a few rooms back.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much to investigate. The boots and outer robe were normal, if overly-yellow. There were no suspiciously evil-looking bits of jewelry laying around, and the hair ornament Shen Qingqiu found on the dresser was extremely ordinary. The only thing special about it was that, when Shen Qingqiu held it up to get a better look at it, he was able to catch the faint scent of Binghe's hair.
"Is Senior Shen looking for someone?"
Shen Qingqiu dropped the hair ornament. "Ah!" Shit. "Sorry! I was—"
Binghe was standing in the door watching him, his eyes as cold as ice. At the sight of such a frigid expression, the excuse Shen Qingqiu had prepared died on his lips.
"I…"
Binghe looked down at the fallen hair ornament, then back up to him. He seemed unimpressed. "Did Senior Shen come here in the middle of the night just to borrow a hair ornament?"
"...I was just looking for Binghe."
"I'm sure you were," Binghe said, his lip curling—and hadn't Shen Qingqiu noticed earlier that Binghe's expressions seemed fake? This one was genuine, though, and the disgust in it hurt more than he'd expected it to. "I'd heard rumors, but really, Senior Shen is too shameless."
Shen Qingqiu, who'd been reaching towards his neck to pull out his trump card, paused. What did that mean?
"Shameless?"
"Did you think I wouldn't look into the man who used to be my Shizun?"
Oh, Shen Qingqiu did not like where this was going.
"The stories of Shizun's whoring were surprisingly widespread—so much so that they couldn't be dismissed as idle gossip. I didn't believe them without proof, of course," Binghe said. "But when I searched the records of brothels near Cang Qiong Mountain, I found plenty of references to your visits. And then one day your visits just…stopped."
Shen Qingqiu supposed that would be when he'd transmigrated.
"Around that same time, our relationship was said to have improved," Binghe continued. "Why is that?" And oh, Binghe's voice was dangerously soft now, like a cat purring before it killed the mouse it'd been toying with.
Only…the question was nonsensical. What did him and Binghe becoming closer have to do with Shen Qingqiu no longer visiting brothels?
"I don't understand," Shen Qingqiu said, his voice a bit strangled.
"You don't? Let's try from another direction, then. Liu Qingge wondered why I didn't come back to Cang Qiong in the years after the conference, before my recent memory loss," Binghe said. "Most people ask the same question when they hear my story. But you weren't curious about that—because you already know why I didn't come back, because the story you told everyone of my death was a lie."
Shen Qingqiu swallowed. "Well—"
"I ran away from you, didn't I, Senior Shen? I used the chaos of the conference to escape." Binghe smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Tell me: did you start fucking me as soon as you got me into your bamboo house? The Palace Master hinted as much, but I didn't want to believe it. Yet here you are, creeping into my bedroom at night, sniffing at my hair ornament."
Shen Qingqiu felt his mind go blank. He'd heard Binghe's words, but…
He blinked, then blinked again.
"Well?" Binghe's eyes narrowed. "Don't have any pretty excuses for me? Any assurances that I've got it all wrong?"
Shen Qingqiu just stared at him. "You think…"
The impossibility of what Binghe was suggesting was so outrageous that, for a moment, it was almost funny. A hysterical bubble of laughter forced its way out of him.
Whatever reaction Binghe had been expecting, this hadn't been it. He frowned as Shen Qingqiu gasped for breath, his burst of laughter quickly turning into something else, something more panicked.
"You think—Binghe, I didn't—I never, I swear, I—"
If Binghe's revenge for pushing him into the Abyss had been stick-ification, what would his revenge for this be? Shen Qingqiu couldn't even begin to fathom it—but if he didn't set the record straight, he might have to experience it firsthand. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and then took another deep breath, and then another, and oh—now he was just hyperventilating, wasn't he?
Binghe watched him for a moment, his face thoughtful. "You're surprised by my suggestion," he said. "Too surprised. I got it wrong, didn't I?"
Shen Qingqiu wheezed a sigh of relief. "Yes! Yes, you got it wrong. I—"
"It wasn't lust. It was love."
Binghe smiled triumphantly.
Shen Qingqiu stared at him, numb.
"...Love?"
"You've been inconsolable, calling out my name like you lost your soul, refusing to eat," Binghe said, listing his symptoms with a bored indifference. "If you believed yourself in love, perhaps you waited until I was grown, then confessed your feelings at the conference. It could have been planned; it could have been said on impulse in the heat of battle. Either way, when those feelings weren't returned and I left your tutelage in disgust, you simply lied about my disappearance to save face, and you've been pining ever since. How close am I this time?"
That…was better than the first explanation, at least. And it was certainly more forgivable than Shen Qingqiu's actual crime.
He could probably get away with letting Binghe believe it. He probably should. It was an embarrassing story, but that only made it more believable. With that as the reason for their separation, Binghe might even forgive him one day, assuming he didn't get his memories back.
…Assuming he didn't get his memories back.
Shen Qingqiu felt his heart go cold.
Until now, he'd been operating under the assumption that this amnesia, whatever its cause, was temporary. But what if it wasn't? What if Binghe never remembered?
If all of Binghe's past memories, all of his feelings and hopes and dreams, were forgotten forever—wasn't that the same as if the child he'd been had died? And that meant Shen Qingqiu would have killed him. Not temporarily put him through pain, not betrayed him and broken his trust, but actually killed him.
He clenched his fists, then looked down, suddenly unable to meet Binghe's eyes.
"I don't want to talk about the conference," he said hoarsely, which was true enough. "But…Binghe should know that he deserved better. I didn't treat him as I should have, and he's suffered for it."
Binghe would interpret that as confirmation of his romantic-confession theory, but there was no way to refute it without confessing to something worse, or raising more suspicions.
"That almost sounds like an apology," Binghe said.
"Yes, well—"
"I'd probably accept it, if I could remember what you were apologizing for." Binghe sighed. He sounded tired. "Senior Shen, why are you here?"
Shen Qingqiu had come prepared for this.
The System had yelled at him when he'd pulled the fake jade pendant from storage. [User should remember that this is worth -1000 anger points!] the System had said repeatedly. It only reluctantly handed it over, and only after making Shen Qingqiu wait through a bullshit buffering screen while the pendant slowly materialized.
But was reducing anger points all the pendant was good for? Having it gave Shen Qingqiu two things: a good excuse to have been looking for Binghe if he got caught searching the Huan Hua rooms, and a ray of hope. After all, what was more precious to Binghe than his mother's last gift? If this was a chapter in PIDW, seeing such an important part of his past would definitely force Binghe's memories to return!
Shen Qingqiu reached into the neck of his robes and carefully pulled out the guanyin. He slipped the string over his neck, then held it out to Binghe, who—
Was watching it cautiously, no hint of recognition in his eyes.
"You came to give me a gift?" Binghe made no move to take it.
"It was from your mother," Shen Qingqiu said softly, his heart sinking. "It was the last thing she gave you before she…"
He stopped. That probably wasn't the best way to break the news to someone that their mother was dead, was it? But Binghe only nodded and accepted the pendant.
"It's fake," he said, turning it over in his hands.
"It was all she could afford." It felt wrong to see Binghe holding the pendant like this—casually, as if it was a curiosity and nothing more. "It meant a lot to you, once. But you lost it. I found it, and have been keeping it safe until I was able to return it."
"So you found a precious keepsake of mine…and have been wearing it around your neck, over your heart?"
Shen Qingqiu spluttered. "I don't normally wear it!"
"You packed it in a bag just for this mission, then? Despite not knowing you'd find me here?"
"...Yes."
The lie was laughable. Binghe looked at him with something akin to pity, and Shen Qingqiu could feel his face flush.
"Thank you for the necklace, Senior Shen," Binghe said after a few moments. "I truly do appreciate you returning it."
"You're welcome."
There was an awkward silence as Binghe watched him expectantly.
"...You can leave now."
"Right."
Their conversation had woken the Huan Hua cultivators. As Shen Qingqiu fled into the hallway, he saw faces peering at him through now-open doors. His face, which was already red with embarrassment, heated further as he heard the laughter and scandalized whispers that followed him.
How much had they heard? Everything, probably. Binghe hadn't exactly been quiet.
Shen Qingqiu didn't run from the building, because that would be undignified, but he did walk quickly. Not quickly enough to escape hearing what they were saying, though.
"...finds out he's alive, and shows up in his bedroom that same night?"
"...lecherous bastard. Binghe should've killed…"
"...did you see him? I think I'd die of humiliation if I…"
Cultivator hearing really was a curse, wasn't it? Even as he left the building, he could hear the muffled, low sound of Binghe's voice responding to someone. Shen Qingqiu couldn't make out the words, but his amused tone was clear enough.
Shen Qingqiu gave into temptation and broke out into a run. He was far enough away that it was unlikely anyone saw it, and if they did, would it matter?
It wasn't as if he had any face left to lose.
Shen Qingqiu didn't get any sleep that night. His only consolation, dragging himself exhausted and humiliated from his bedroom the next day, was that things couldn't get any worse.
He watched with dull eyes as the sower pointed at him, accusing him of being the one who'd inflicted the plague on the city—but really, what had he expected? That Binghe would quietly suffer the indignity of his former Shizun's romantic intentions? Of course he'd want payback! If anything, this was a good sign, at least for Binghe. If he was able to organize this, then he was still aware of and in touch with his demon heritage.
But when the Old Palace Master joined the crowd in questioning Shen Qingqiu's integrity, Binghe stepped forward.
"The sower is lying," Binghe said. "Demons do that. Besides, Senior Shen was infected as well, wasn't he?"
The Old Palace Master shot Binghe an incredulous look, but Binghe didn't so much as glance at him, his eyes locked on Shen Qingqiu.
Why was Binghe helping him? Did that mean it wasn't Binghe who'd arranged this?
Help from an unlikely ally was still help. Shen Qingqiu nodded and raised his sleeve, revealing the growing sower rash.
Yue Qingyuan inhaled sharply. Mu Qingfang sighed. "Shen-shixiong," he said, sounding tired. "You really should tell me about these things."
The crowd muttered, and for a moment it looked like their attention had shifted away from him. Then—
"Shen Qingqiu may not be guilty of demonic collusion, but he's not innocent!" A woman stepped forward, her finger pointing accusingly at Shen Qingqiu. "When I was a child, he—"
"Private grievances should be handled privately," Binghe said. "Now, about the sowers…"
The woman (who, given the original goods' backstory, was probably Qiu Haitang) looked shocked at the interruption, and the Old Palace Master seemed like he wanted to strangle Binghe a bit, but this time the moment was well and truly gone. The conversation was forcefully shepherded back to disposing of the sowers and curing the plague, and Shen Qingqiu was able to fade back into the crowd.
When Huan Hua started dispatching people to find wood to burn the sowers, Shen Qingqiu took that as his cue to leave. They didn't need him for this, and he'd rather push the conversation with Qiu Haitang off until never, thank you. But as he moved through the crowds, a hand reached out and grabbed his elbow.
He looked up to see Binghe watching him with a conflicted expression.
"Binghe?" he said, startled. He wouldn't have thought Binghe would want to be near him after last night's debacle, much less seek his company out.
"I really do appreciate you returning the pendant," Binghe said.
"...Oh. Of course. It is yours, after all," Shen Qingqiu said.
"It clearly meant a lot to you, though. And while I may not have the same attachment to it, it is nice to have a piece of my past back. That's why I spoke up when I did. Any debt I owe to you is now paid,"
"Oh."
Binghe let go of his arm and stepped back. "This time, we can part ways on good terms."
Shen Qingqiu stared at him. It wasn't like he wanted Binghe around, not with how awkward things were! And his only alternative to awkwardness was somehow returning Binghe's memories and accepting Binghe's homicidal rage. It was really a no-win scenario!
But still, didn't this seem too sudden? Was Binghe really going to be gone? Forever, just like that?
That felt wrong—but more importantly, how was he supposed to solve Binghe's curse and finish the System quest if he never saw Binghe again?
"We used to go on night hunts together," Shen Qingqiu said desperately. "You always really enjoyed that. Perhaps it would help with recovering your memories if we continued—"
"No."
"Or we could just talk. I'm sure you have a lot of questions about your childhood. I could visit you at Huan Hua Palace occasionally, and we could have tea, and—"
"I said, 'no.' Goodbye, Senior Shen," Binghe said firmly, and then walked away, disappearing back into the crowd without a backward glance.
When Liu Qingge found Shen Qingqiu later, he was sitting in his room, staring blankly at the wall.
Liu Qingge frowned. "Where's your disciple?"
"He's not coming," Shen Qingqiu said.
Liu Qingge's eyebrows scrunched up in displeasure at that. "I'll go talk to him."
"Please don't." Whatever Binghe would have to say in response was too humiliating to contemplate.
Liu Qingge gave him a long look, then shrugged. "Alright. Mu Qingfang needs to heal your sower's rash, and then we have to go—the lady from earlier is still yelling."
So Qiu Haiting hadn't been entirely dissuaded by Binghe's lack of support. "We should probably leave quickly," Shen Qingqiu agreed.
The flight back to Cang Qiong was long, but it gave Shen Qingqiu time to think. If Luo Binghe didn't want to meet with him, that was fine. It really was.
He was fine.
But Binghe wasn't, and Shen Qingqiu was not going to just give up on him.
And really, what better person was there to fix this problem than him? Who was more familiar with PIDW than he was? Shen Qingqiu knew where to find this world's overpowered artifacts, its undiscovered magical plants, and its tomes of secret cultivation techniques. If anyone could sneak into the Huan Hua Palace undetected and continue investigating Binghe's memory loss, it was him.
Also, he knew the author-god of this world. He hadn't been terribly helpful up until now, but if anyone might have insider knowledge of what was going on, it was Shang Qinghua.